


Sugar and Spice

by VesperNights



Category: Midnight Poppy Land (Webcomic)
Genre: AU, Angst, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Eating out, Exhibitionism, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Groping, Happy Ending, MPL, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Scissoring, Sex, Sex Club, Sex Work, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, mafia, mob
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:42:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27831715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VesperNights/pseuds/VesperNights
Summary: Fresh out of prison, Poppylan Wilkes begins her new job as a hostess at the Sugar and Spice Maid Club, in order to pay back her debts. Bodyguard to the most notorious crime boss in Narin City, Tora visits the club and stumbles upon its newest employee. Their lives are never the same.
Relationships: Tora / Poppy (Midnight Poppy Land), Tora/Poppy Wilkes
Comments: 15
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Midnight Poppy Land AU, based off of MPL author, Lilydusk's, Patreon comic: The Sugar and Spice Maid Club. This story starts after the beginning events of the S&S comic, and then deviates almost immediately. You don't need to have read the Patreon comic to understand this story, but I highly recommend you subscribe to Lilydusk's Patreon because it is amazing. Midnight Poppy Land and its characters belong to Lilydusk. This work is an appreciation of her talent and completely inspired by her next-level smut.

**_Poppy_ **

I walk quickly, my shoes clacking on the city street.  _ Ow, ow, ow, ow,  _ every footstep brings a fresh jolt of pain—these heels are a nightmare to walk in. I’m practically shuffling, out of breath. But I’m already running late and this is only my first day at my new job. I round the corner into a seedy alley and a rusty sign over a back door reads: The Sugar and Spice Maid Club. Well, this is the place.

I jiggle the knob but the door is locked. I jiggle again and try pulling. Nothing. I lean forward against it, trying to catch my breath from all the running and, now, the panicking. I knock hard—maybe if my knuckles hurt, that means I’m knocking loud enough? It’s a thick door.

It swings open to reveal Erdene in nothing but stockings, a bra, and a short little skirt. “THERE you are! I was starting to think you maybe changed your mind.” She pulls my hand and yanks me inside, the heavy door swinging closed behind us with a loud bang. It almost sounded like prison doors closing. I swallow.

Erdene is the one who recommended this place. I met her on the inside, and we had formed a camaraderie, looking out for each other as much as possible. Erdene’s sentence was up just a few months before mine. She’s pretty much the only person I trust at this point, so when I got out, she offered to help me get a job. “As far as sex work goes,” she explained, “this job isn’t so bad. The club is owned by some mob boss, but he protects the women fairly well. You never have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. Of course, if you don’t put out, you’re not gonna get a lot of tips, but you’re completely in control—everything is up to you.”

With my criminal record, I wasn’t going to be able to easily find a job, and Erdene promised this one pays well; plus she sweet-talked the manager and got me hired on nothing but descriptions of my looks—I wonder how much of my butt size she may have embellished.

The Sugar and Spice Maid Club had one rule: patrons could touch you, but as the hostess, you could decide how far they’re allowed to take their touching; there were bouncers there to protect the women, and men could get banned for not following the rules. I figure it’s one step up from the protection I had in prison. As a hostess, I come with a base fee but if I impress the guy enough, he can increase what he pays me. So, they’ll be putting a monetary value on my hotness. I hope I make enough money, or else I’ll be broke  _ and  _ start to develop low self-esteem. 

I’m nervous for my first day, but, honestly, kind of excited too. The whole thing sounds very erotic. Men aching to touch you, your private parts just barely covered up, tantalizing the customers, being touched only when you say it’s okay. It seems very sexy. 

Granted, I have very little experience with sex. While I look pure and innocent on the outside (and, for the most part, I am pretty pure and innocent), I actually have a fairly dirty mind, with a high sex drive that makes me constantly curious. I want to experiment. I want to be desired, I want to turn men on, I want to be touched. So, y’know, this job should be...interesting to say the least.

That’s not to say I was thrilled about taking it. It’s still sex work, and I will still probably have to do things I don’t really want to do. I have debts to pay. 

Erdene hands me a very small maid uniform, along with stockings, a headband, and some very flimsy piece of fabric. I eye it. “What’s that?” 

“A g-string,” Erdene says patiently.

“A what-string?” 

“A  _ G _ -string. You wear it as panties.” 

I take it from her, unfolding it and holding it up. “This is, like, literally just a string,” I say, looking at her dubiously. “What does this even cover?”

“Hello? That’s the point, dummy. Put that on, and your tips will go up.” I’m looking at it, doubtful and suspicious. 

“Trust me,” she says. “If you’re not ready to be touched, just flash that thing—bend over, lift your skirt a little bit. Give ‘em a tease. They like that here. The allure is you’re a sort of forbidden fruit. The mere suggestion of what’s under your little outfit is enough to drive them wild. Holding out a little bit will only make them pull out more money.” She pats my shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Poppy. You can do this.”

“I’m just a little nervous,” I admit.

“I know. But you’re in control. And the bouncers are there to protect you. I’ll try to stay close to you, okay? I’ll keep my eye on you.”

I nod, a small smile of gratitude on my lips. I don’t know what I would do without Erdene. 

I get undressed and begin to put on my uniform. I step into the g-string and slide it up over my hips. Oof. I can see why men find this hot. The small piece of fabric barely covers the area. I pull it up a little higher, the string pressing tantalizingly on my clit and setting in between my ass cheeks. This probably won’t be comfortable for long.  _ Maybe I won’t be wearing it for long.  _ I feel a jolt of excitement and fear at that thought. I look at myself in the mirror and see that I’m flushed. I feel myself getting a little wet. My heart is pounding.

I finish putting on the rest of the outfit. The skirt barely falls below my ass cheeks, and if I raise my arms, there’s no question the top of my nipples will peak out. I put a stocking on each foot and slowly pull up. The fabric is light and soft on my skin. I tie my tiny little apron and, the finishing touch, a bow tie around my neck. I look good.

Erdene helps me put my hair into pigtails. She says that an innocent little doll look will drive the men crazy. I trust her advice. 

When I’m all done, Erdene glances at the clock. “Perfect timing. We’re just about to open.” She grabs my hand, and pulls me into the dim lighting of the club, towards the unknown, a tingling sensation right in the center of me. 

Erdene’s advice is to stand there and look uninterested. “Gaze off into space,” she explained earlier, “don’t make eye contact, look bored and distracted. The truly creepy ones will probably overlook you because they‘ll want the desperate type, but the guys you might actually want to touch you will like the challenge.” I decide to take her advice again because, well, what else am I supposed to do?

The door opens, sunshine briefly spilling in, practically blinding me. Jeez. I blink fast, squeezing my eyes shut tight, trying to get my vision back. And when I do, my breath hitches and I almost forget to look aloof. The man who walks in is so hot I almost wish I  _ was  _ blinded completely by the sun because...I want to know him. I feel something change in me. I can’t explain it. But I get the feeling that he could change my life. In a good way or a bad way remains to be seen. 

**_Tora_ **

I walk quickly down the city street, turn a corner, and there is it: the Sugar and Spice Maid Club.  _ What a fucking drag _ , I think,  _ The big boss wanting me to come down to his stupid maid cafe, just to sample the goods _ . As much as I love sex, I don’t particularly enjoy women throwing themselves at me—especially when they’re paid to do so. I’m not the kind of guy who’s into being with someone in the sex industry. It’s so insincere, and I always have a worry at the back of my head that the girl actually doesn’t want to be there at all and doesn’t have a choice, which makes it almost impossible to be into it.  _ Almost _ , I think bitterly, disgusted with myself. 

I swing open the door to the club, and enter. It’s dimly lit and smells of cigarette smoke and sex. The boss asked me to take a look around, make sure the girls were doing what they should be doing, sample a few, and report back with the all-clear. The manager of the club has clearly been waiting for me, and he bounds up eagerly. “Let me present the girls to you.” Ugh. 

He walks me in front of a line of beautiful women, shoulder to shoulder, all scantily-clad in maid outfits clinging to their curves and leaving little to the imagination. Each of them has a tiny little apron at their waist and, at their neck, a collar with a bow tie—a nice, erotic touch. The ladies are whispering amongst themselves as I step up and stand, feet apart, looking them over.

One girl licks her lips suggestively at me. Pass. 

“Is he Balthuman clan?” one whispers. The girl next to her responds, “He is. I heard he’s in charge of this area.” Pass and hard pass on these ladies. My head is starting to hurt. They’re all beautiful women, but they all do nothing for me.

But then I lay eyes on a girl in the center, her hair in pigtails and a dazed, far-away look on her face, like she is deep in thought about something completely unrelated to what’s in front of her. Honestly, she looks like she couldn't be bothered to pay attention to a potential client, and her attitude is in stark contrast to the other girls, who are posing suggestively, batting their eyelashes at me, and whispering dirty words. She intrigues me.

It’s also possible that she is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen and I  _ definitely  _ want to know her better.  _ Maybe I might enjoy myself after all,  _ I smirk.

“I want her,” I turn to the manager, nodding in the girl’s direction. The other girls mutter in annoyance that they weren’t chosen and walk away back into the club, waiting to be called for inspection and selection by the next client who enters. The stunning creature before me seems unaware that they’ve left.

“Oh, that’s Poppy,” the manager says.  _ Poppy _ . At the sound of her name, she finally lifts her head out of her reverie with a small, “Hm?”

“21 years old,” the manager continues. “She’s new and you’ll be her first customer. Please be gentle with her.”

I survey her with my arms crossed. Poppy looks at me, wide-eyed and blushing. “Of course,” I say. I’m not so sure if she believes me.

Poppy leads me to a booth and places a menu in front of me.

“So…” I cross my legs and look at her appraisingly. “I can touch you anywhere I want, however I want, as long as you agree to it, am I right?” That’s surprisingly...consensual of the big boss. Pretty unusual to be so considerate of how the “merchandise” feels. The business relies on the establishment’s ability to provide the kinkiest, raunchiest girls, down for literally anything. 

“Yes,” she responds, “anywhere...” She’s wearing long stockings pulled up to her mid-thigh, and little strappy pumps. 

“Are you sure?” Fuck, I’m getting hard just looking at her.

“I...I’m sure.” Poppy is blushing harder now, looking a little nervous. “You have one hour of my time starting from now...but the cafe rule is that you have to stop as soon as I say so.” Her voice quivers a little.

“That’s fine,” I say, reaching out and yanking down the front of her dress unceremoniously. Her breasts pop out, bouncing.  _ Fuck. _ They’re huge, and her nipples are a dusty rose color. I take her left breast in my hand, feeling it, weighing it. “Just stop me anytime this gets uncomfortable for you. What do you have for today?” Poppy starts struggling to read the menu, while I place her nipple in my mouth. The second my lips touch her skin, I know I’m a goner.

***

I leave the club quickly, my stomach in knots. Things with Poppy escalated  _ fast _ , and now everything in my life feels different. She read me the menu while I touched her. I couldn’t resist and I swung her into my lap, pulling my cock out and moving her back and forth on it. For a moment, I thought she was going to reject me, and I spiraled into self-loathing and despair quicker than I ever have before. But then she came back, presented herself to me, and I took her to a room and fucked her.

Our moments together flash through my mind—the way her body felt against mine, how wet she got for me, the way she clenched down onto me as she climaxed. But more than that, the way she stared into my eyes, biting her lip, moaning my name softly. Our bodies covered in sweat, the smell of sex in the air, and my entire being melting as I clutched her close to me.

I’ve never felt like this before. Like...like...fuck, I don’t even know, I can’t name it. I can barely string two thoughts together. I hurry to my car, unlock it, and get in, pulling out into the road and getting the hell out of here.

My ears are ringing, and I try to focus on the road, but I’m distracted as I recall laying there in a daze with her, kissing her softly, on her cheek, her ear, moving my lips down to her shoulder, then up her neck again before kissing her tenderly on each eyelid, her forehead, the tip of her nose, and then finally her mouth. It was incredibly intimate for someone I just met. For anyone I’ve  _ ever _ met, really.

When I broke away, she whispered my name. My name on her lips was like a song, her breath tickling my face as she pulled me in for a soft kiss. 

And then that’s when I snapped back to reality and became very aware of the situation. I just had the best sex of my entire life with some girl who works in a sex club. Those feelings I couldn’t put a name to? They were... _ feelings _ . I don’t do feelings. I  _ can’t _ do feelings. As much as I wanted to stay there with her, bury my face between her thighs, eat her out for hours and then fuck her some more, I had to get away from her. For her own sake. But how the hell could I just leave her there in that club, to be ravished by any man willing to pay for an hour of her time? No man is worthy of laying his hands on her soft, smooth skin. Especially me.

And so I did what I do best: I shut down. My voice flat and emotionless, I told her I was in charge of the club and she was fired. I told her to pack up her things, I told her she didn’t make the cut. I basically told her she wasn’t good enough to be a whore.

I run my fingers through my hair in agony, remembering it all. I couldn’t look at her as I said it. I had my phone out and pretended to be texting, completely uninterested in her dilemma. I willed myself to be as cold and unfeeling as I possibly could; so much that I almost believed it myself. 

_ This is for the best _ , I tell myself. This is how I’ve learned to survive. This is how I protect my heart. How could I be so fucking stupid to let someone in like this?

Poppy sounded upset, but I didn’t hear tears in her eyes. And I’ve become very adept at making others cry. She had shouted after me as I left, calling desperately that she needed this job. But I gritted my teeth. I opened the door and walked out without a backward glance. And what tiny, shriveled pieces of my black heart that were still left in me when I walked into that club, remained in that room with Poppy.

_ FUCK. _

I feel sick. What is happening to me?  _ She’s just a girl!  _ I’m screaming at myself internally, trying to make myself snap out of it.  _ You just met her! She was a good lay, but that’s all it was _ . Except that wasn’t all it was. My chest hurts, my heart beating painfully inside it. I clutch my chest, my thoughts spinning. No. I have to forget her. It can’t possibly hurt as much to forget her as it seems to hurt wanting her. I have to forget her for her own sake. 

I just hope she believes me that I fired her. I don’t even have the club manager’s number that I claimed to text. I just had to get out of there as fast as I could. But I can’t risk going back to make sure she’s gone, because if I see her again...I don’t think I can stop myself from taking her back to the bedroom and never letting go.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poppy is angry, and Tora is very, very sorry for what he did. So sorry, in fact, he needs to show her just how much.

**_Poppy_ **

I’m not sure how long I sit there in bed, my mouth gaping open, after Tora had fucked me, fired me, and then left the room. My brain struggles to form coherent thoughts. Moments ago, with Tora, my body floated on a frickin’ cloud, the sun grinning at me in his sunglasses like, “You go, girl,” as I drift by, because it knows I just had hot, hot sex. I shake my head, blinking away my weird thoughts. My body feels electric, tingly. I want to experience it all again, right now.

_ No!  _ I admonish myself.  _ No, you have to get your job back!  _ I make to stand up but am thoroughly tangled in the bedsheets. The more I struggle, the tighter I twist into them. I flail in frustration, muttering through clenched teeth. “Stupid. Sexy. Tora.”

I pull free, extremely annoyed, and hurriedly gather up my clothes and throw them on. I ditch the g-string in the trash, seeing as how Tora ripped it in passion, and it is now completely useless. A shiver goes up my spine thinking about Tora’s hands tearing off my clothes. 

“NOPE!” I yell out loud to myself. “Tora is a jerk, Tora is a jerk.” Maybe if I say it enough times, I won’t keep getting so turned on when I think of him and all the things we just did.

I carry my heels in my hands and pad barefoot down the hall, back into the main part of the cafe. I see my boss across the room, and hurry up to him. Vaguely, I’m aware that I’m wobbling a little bit. The center of me is pretty sore, and my legs are essentially jelly at the moment. 

“Sir! Sir!” I hop up and down a little to get his attention over the loud music. Finally, he turns to me. 

“Uhh, Bobby, right?” He points at me, trying to place me. This is the first time I’ve directly talked to him.

“Poppy,” I correct. 

“Oh, right, Poppy. Yeah? What can I do for you?”

I take a deep breath. “Sir, I don’t know what that man told you about me, but I don’t deserve to be fired. I’m pretty sure he was, like, way into what we just did.”

He just looks at me blankly. “Huh?”

“That guy, Tora, who came in here? We... _ y’know _ ...in one of the rooms, and then he said I didn’t make the cut and I needed to pack up my things and he texted you that I was fired.”

My boss pulls his phone out of his pocket and scrolls through it. “Nope,” he says, shrugging. “No text from Tora, firing you, or complaining about you. I did just see him leave, but he didn’t say anything to me about you or anyone else.”

“So...so I’m not fired?” I bite my lip, my eyes wide with hope. 

“Nope,” my boss confirms. I should probably learn his name. But it’s one of those things where, it’s been awhile now and I still don’t know it, so asking him what it is will just be weird. I make a mental note to ask Erdene later.

Phew! Well, then what the  _ heck  _ is Tora’s problem? I know that I don’t really know what I’m doing, but he seemed to enjoy himself, so why did he say I was fired? 

I make to put my shoes back on, but Erdene slides up and grabs my elbow.

“Um,  _ hello! _ ” she says, excited. “You’ve been on the job for an hour and you’ve already had a private ‘party’ with a customer? You’re way better at this than I thought you would be.” She grins wickedly, waiting for details. I feel a little crestfallen. That is all it was, wasn’t it? A private party with a customer. Wow, I am going to be super bad at this job if I can’t take my emotions out of it. I’m not sure why I thought there was possibly something else at play here. Tora was a customer. This was a transaction. He visited a sex club and paid for an hour of my time. And he didn’t even leave a tip. Because apparently I suck in bed!

“Hah, yeah, things kind of escalated quickly,” I say to Erdene. “We, uh, did it. Like all the way.”

“Damn, girl!” Erdene says, playfully batting my arm. “He was really good-looking too! Wonder if he’ll come back. It’s always good to get repeat customers. They’ll tip higher.”

“Yeah, uh, maybe he’ll be back,” I respond.  _ He better not be back,  _ I think bitterly, while at the same time already fantasizing about what it would be like to see him again. 

“Speaking of tips,” Erdene continues, “don’t put your shoes back on. Let a customer do that. Some guys are into that kinda thing.” 

Really? I shrug. If someone wants to pay to put my shoes on for me, that sounds great. And I probably can’t mess that up. I doubt the standards of having feet that shoes can go onto are quite as high as Tora’s sex standards, but who knows. I need to stop thinking about him. 

I walk to a booth with Erdene, who instructs me to prop myself up on my elbows, and lean back, my feet in view for anyone to see. I do so, hoping that the next customer I encounter will be pleased enough with me to leave me a tip.

***

A week goes by, then two, and I settle into a routine. Every morning, I walk from my tiny apartment on the outskirts of Ares Street to the back alley of the Sugar and Spice Maid Club. I drink tea with Erdene as we get ready for a day of sex work. She gives me pointers, and I French braid her hair and try not to compare every guy who walks in to Tora.

My enthusiasm for the job has waned slightly. It’s not that I particularly mind it, but I don’t find it nearly as erotic as I initially did. My first day on the job, I was buzzing with excitement, already wet in anticipation of what sexy things I’d get to do (or have done to me). Tora basically ruined all of that for me by being a sex god. Every other guy since paled in comparison. I typically have to think of Tora just to feel capable of seducing the customers who come in and pay for my time. 

I haven’t slept with any other customer after Tora. I haven’t wanted to, plus most of them are kind of gross. When young, hot guys come in, I let them grope, pinch, or slip a finger inside me occasionally. I straddle laps and talk in a baby voice (ugh), whisper the menu into their ears seductively, nibbling on an earlobe. My tips are rolling in, and I feel powerful. 

When the day is over, I walk home, grabbing take-out on the way. I eat it alone, then touch myself thinking of Tora. When the orgasm fades, I’m still miserable, because I’m stuck on a stupid guy who didn’t even look back after he fucked me. Each night, I drift off to sleep, unsatisfied, and wake feeling not even remotely rested. And each day at work I pathetically hope Tora will come back. I just want to talk to him. 

_ No!  _ I yell at myself.  _ Stop being so pathetic. He’s gone and he’s not ever coming back. Tomorrow,  _ I decide,  _ tomorrow I will have sex with someone new. _

***

**_Tora_ **

It’s been two of the most miserable weeks of my whole life. Which is really saying something, as I’ve grown up in a gang, made to do the illegal dirty work of powerful men. But ever since I met Poppy at that stupid sugary spicy maid restaurant or whatever it was called, I can’t get her out of my head. I can’t sleep, and I can barely concentrate. My stomach keeps doing these little jolts and flips when I think of her face. And the thing that really scares me is that our amazing sex isn’t even what is torturing me. It’s just... _ her.  _ Everything about her. Her smile, the way she murmured my name, the look in her eyes of vulnerability and trust.

I have spent my entire life shutting people out for their own good. And mine. Getting close to me is dangerous—not just because of the world I operate in, but because, at my core, I’m a monster let out of its cage. I was raised like a dog in a fighting ring. Poppy seems like the type of person who would see the good in any broken animal, who would rescue them and rehabilitate them. But there’s no salvation for this battered dog; I can’t learn new tricks. Eventually, I would snap and bite the hand that feeds me. If Poppy sees who I really am, she would be repulsed. Or worse, hurt.

I rake my fingers through my hair in frustration, my hands groping for a cigarette. I lay on the couch in my apartment, exhausted from a long night of gang work for the Balthuman’s—mostly collecting various debts, be they monetary or otherwise. I’m an intimidating beast, which works in the Balthuman’s favor when I have to ensure people remember who they’re working for, and the consequences when they fail to uphold their end of the bargain. The Balthuman’s do absolutely nothing for free. One way or another, every debt gets paid, and the notorious crime boss, Vincent Balthuman is not a forgiving man.

Luckily, my activity in the illegal syndicate waned slightly following my arrest and subsequent parole. I have to lay low and not draw attention to myself, so the big boss has me running small errands (like checking out his sex clubs), and babysittting his little princess of a son, Quinceton.

Quincey and I are actually like brothers. We grew up together, the difference being he was pampered and privileged and loved, and I was owned and abused and made into a lethal weapon. But none of that was Quincey’s fault. His father took measures to ensure that Quincey knew little of clan affairs, and shielded him from the majority of the violence. Quincey wasn’t an idiot—he knew what the Balthuman organization was—but he was far enough removed from the reality of the gang, that he had no trouble sleeping at night.

Right now, while I’m on parole, I’m essentially a bodyguard for the little princess, following him around to his various appointments. The kid is soft; a novelist who spends his days writing and getting manicures, hair cuts, massages, and other frufru, girly shit.

A part of me wants to tell him about Poppy, but I know he’d just tell me to follow my heart. Y’know, more of that frufru girly shit. We can’t all be princesses like Quincey, with happily ever afters or however the fuck good stories end.

The sun slowly rises outside, the sky purple and gold over Narin City. The neon lights of Ares Street are turning off for the day, and the sun might be able to squeeze its way in between the skyscrapers, and onto the sidewalks of this derelict place. 

I’ve been curled up, trying to fall asleep for the past half hour, but I just keep thinking about Poppy. Every day, I’ve had to stop myself going back to the maid club to make sure she left like I told her to. And every day I hope, selfishly, that maybe she’s still there and I can see her.

Best to stay away all together. Quincey might tell me to follow my heart...but I don’t have one.

I lay awake, miserable, thinking of Poppy’s supple curves, her sweet scent of lavender and honey, the taste of her lips on mine, her tongue on my skin. 

_ FUCK.  _

I sit up. I can’t stop myself. I’m gonna go jerk off in the shower, get dressed, and go to that stupid maid club when it opens. Poppy better not be there. But, fuck, I hope she is.

***

**_Poppy_ **

“Pops, you doing okay there?” 

I look up to see Erdene standing next to me, gazing at my face; I must have zoned out. We’re in the dressing room of the Sugar and Spice Maid Club, preparing for the day, but all I can think about is Tora.

“Huh?” I say. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. I just...I’ve decided I want to sleep with someone today.” It’s time to move on from Tora; he’s not coming back and I need to have sex. The tips won’t hurt either. 

“Oh, great!” Erdene smiles at me. She and I share the same view of our job—we find sex work to be empowering. I know that I’m fortunate in my position, to not have to work under a pimp, or be forced to do anything I don’t want to do. I am so thankful that I have the autonomy to make my own decisions about my body and how I use it.

I feel so powerful, using my body to get men off, letting them touch me or deciding that they can’t. My sexual appetite is huge and lately I feel like I’m always starving. I want men to touch me, to be inside me, to  _ want  _ me. Women are taught to believe we must be a size zero to be sexy, but I love my curves, the way my thighs touch, the light stretch marks on my breasts and hips. And the men who frequent the club seem to be super into them, too.  _ And I thought Tora was, but I guess not,  _ I think, irritated.

I’ve bought myself some sexy new lingerie to wear under my maid uniform. Today, I’m sliding into a lacy black one piece. The bra has a delicate flower design, and my nipples poke through. A piece of black fabric runs from my sternum straight down to my crotch, attached to matching lace panties. The fabric wraps around and into my ass like the ribbon on a present. I will be someone’s gift today. 

I smile at myself in the mirror and say to Erdene, “I wonder who the lucky man will be.”

Erdene gives me a once-over and whistles softly. “Girl, you better pick someone young. Looking like that, you’re liable to give some poor older guy a heart attack.”

I laugh, but then say seriously, “I definitely don’t want anyone to die.” Erdene and I look at each other and burst out laughing again. Surely, no one dies at a sex club...right?

We finish getting ready and head out to the main cafe, standing in line, waiting for the first customer. The door opens and a  _ very  _ old man walks in. Erdene mutters at my side, “Oh look, he could be your first victim.” I snort into my hand—luckily, the guy seems to be hard of hearing, and he doesn’t look my way. Instead, he picks a short, petite blonde girl, pinching her ass before she even hands him the menu.

“Phew,” I say, “Won’t be going back to prison for murder today!” Erdene throws her head back and laughs. 

The next few guys who wander in are all middle-aged and just okay-looking. I wouldn’t  _ not  _ let them grope me, but I don’t really feel an attraction to sleep with any of them. Maybe I’m giving off that vibe, since none of them pick me. 

I start to wonder if I maybe wasted my new lingerie on a dud of a day, when the door opens and in walks a  _ very  _ good-looking man. He’s tall, with reddish brown hair that curls around his face, and a mischievous grin. I literally step in front of Erdene—this one’s mine. 

“Hello!” I say cheerily, giving him a little wave and stepping close. My head comes about midway up his chest.

“Well, hi there,” he says grinning. “Will you be my waitress today?” His eyes roam over me greedily, and I feel a warm heat pool in the center of me. He’s dressed in an impeccably tailored black suit, and several jeweled rings adorn his fingers. 

“That depends,” I say with a pout, gazing up at him through my eyelashes. “Are you just looking for a snack, or do you want a meal?” I step even closer, my hand lightly brushing the front of his pants. Behind me, I hear Erdene scoff in exasperation, but I ignore her. I want this man. 

“Honey, I want whatever is on your menu,” he replies, and I beckon him towards a table. He takes a seat in a booth. As I hand him the menu, I notice a tattoo on the side of his neck—it’s identical to the one Tora has. I don’t need to be told what it means—it’s not like I wouldn’t recognize the Balthuman crest when I saw it. Looks like this guy is another clan member.

“So, what’s your name?” I ask. 

“Scharch,” he says, and his hand slides up my skirt and completely grasps my mound. I gasp in surprise. 

“You’re a dirty little thing, aren’t you?” He growls, his fingers roaming over my panties. My heart is racing and I open my mouth to respond when suddenly someone grabs my elbow, yanking me back. Scharch’s hand flies out of my skirt. 

“Hey!” I say, indignant, turning to see what jackass grabbed me. But I have to look up, and up, and up.

Tora towers over me, his amber eyes gazing into mine angrily. 

“Excuse me,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him. “I’m currently busy serving this Shark, I mean, Mr. Scharch.”

“No ya not,” Tora growls, and proceeds to pull me through the club, heading towards the back. He brings me into a private room, like the one we went to that first day, and I yank my arm away from him.

“What the  _ hell _ , man?”

“I thought I told ya you were fired.” Tora crosses his arms.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t. Because you didn’t...do that.” This was not going well. I’ve spent two weeks thinking of barbs to throw at him, imagining what I’d say if I ever saw him again, but now, in his presence, I’m so flustered I can barely think straight.

“Fire me, I mean,” I continue, dumbly. “Because you lied, you...liar.” I finish lamely, kicking myself internally that I have managed to botch this so horribly. Probably 12 seconds after he leaves, the perfect thing to say will come to me. But I don’t want him to leave.  _ Damn it, Poppy! _

Tora remained silent, his face impassive, so I go on.

“I don’t know why you said I was fired, but I checked with my boss” - Damn, I  _ still  _ don’t know his name - “He said you never texted him. So, I stayed on. I don’t understand why you wanted to fire me. I thought you l-l-liked what w-we did.” I swallow painfully, trying to stop myself from crying, but I feel it coming on.

Tora has the smallest break in his composure, his eyes softening ever so slightly. I cross my arms and bite my lip, blinking furiously to will the tears away.

“I did like it,” Tora says softly. I look up at him, a light feeling in my chest.

“You did?” 

“Yeah, I did. A lot.” He runs a hand through his hair. 

I feel breathless.

“I liked it a lot, too.” My heart rate increases, and that warm pooling at my center is back. I want to consume him. But I shake my head, snapping back to reality. “I don’t know what your problem is, but you really hurt my feelings. Plenty of guys like me and leave me tips. So, it’s your loss, really.” Tora scowls. 

I turn to go, but he grasps my elbow again, gently, and pushes me up against the wall, his arms on either side of me, trapping me there. He’s so close, I can feel the heat coming off of him, his hair tickling my face. 

“I’m sorry.” His voice is low and husky. “Please let me show you how sorry I am.” 

Before I can say anything, he drops to his knees. His hands are on my hips, and he lightly runs them down my legs. I shiver. 

He takes my left leg in his hand, and places a kiss to the top of my foot, then my ankle. He works his way up my leg, draping it over his shoulder as his mouth moves to my inner thigh. My breath hitches as he rests his head there, his mouth tantalizingly close to my core. 

“I am so,” Tora looks up at me, voice soft, as he places a tender kiss on the sensitive skin, “so, so sorry.” And then his mouth is on me, his teeth gently pulling my panties aside. A moan escapes me as his tongue flicks ever so lightly over my clit, barely touching it.

His hands lift up my skirt and his fingers pet my folds, caressing them softly, teasing. One finger lightly traces the shape of me. My breath comes out in short, anticipatory gasps, and my entire body aches for more pressure, but he continues only feather-light strokes.

“Will you let me show you how sorry I am?” His voice is low, pleading. His fingers part my folds.

“Yes, god, yes!”

He leans in, turning his head slightly, and takes my clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the bud and then sucking. I moan and I hear him growl in response, feeling the vibration ripple through me. His mouth is desperate, worshipping me, circling my clit with his tongue, flicking up and down and then side to side in a delicious rhythm. 

His eyes close, hands gripping my thighs, and his face buries in the center of me. He runs his tongue from my opening all the way to the top of my clit, and I have never felt more turned on in my life. He looks up at me as he runs it back down and, at the moment his eyes gaze sincerely into mine, I cry out, overwhelmed with him, feeling a rush to my center.

He pulls back, sucking and gently releasing my lips. 

“See how sorry I am, Poppy?” He breathes, and then his tongue enters me, diving in, pulsing in and out. I scream in ecstasy, my hips thrusting. His tongue opens me up like the petals of a flower blooming for him, just him, reaching parts of me that I didn’t even know existed. Once again, Tora has me feeling like I’m floating. His arms wrap around me to rest his hands on my belly, lifting my slightly and angling me for a better position. His tongue continues its exquisite ballet, pirouetting over every inch of my pussy. 

My hands run through his silky hair, and I grab his head, pushing harder onto his tongue, seeking more pressure, ravenous. He meets my enthusiasm, hungrily lapping at my wetness. One finger enters me. I cry out as he slides it in and out of me, and then adds another. 

I look down at him again, and when he lifts his eyes to meet mine, it sends me over the edge.

My body convulses and writhes in waves of heat. My head thunks back against the wall, arms grasping helplessly at nothing. Incoherent sounds escape my mouth, and I can hardly hear them over the ringing in my ears. Stars explode in my eyes, clenched shut, as I ride out the orgasm. 

Tora pulls back, holding on to me so I don’t collapse, and lightens the pressure on my swollen clit, giving me light kisses and flicks. I try to remember my own name.

“Do you forgive me, Poppy?” He removes his fingers from me, and licks them one by one, gazing up at me with an amber smolder. 

“Huh? Wha?” I’m panting, dazed. He takes my clit into his mouth again and I gasp. He rises, placing a tender kiss to my collar bone, my neck, my cheek, and then finally my mouth. My arms snake around his shoulders, and I pull him closer, my mouth molding to his. I inhale shakily, his scent intoxicating, and pull back, looking into his eyes. 

“What if I say no?” I tease. 

“Well, then I guess I’ll just have to work a little harder.” Tora lifts me, and my legs instinctively wrap around him. He carries me to the bed and gently lays me down. 

“Lay back, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Let me lick your pussy until you forgive me.”

His mouth is on me again, and a strangled moan is my only response.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tora catches the feels. Poppy has an erotic encounter with a woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kinda makes me blush lol. I hope you think it's hot.

**_Tora_ **

Poppy is screaming.

A high-pitched wail. Her back arches, her hips thrusting upward of their own accord, as I wrap my hands tighter around her middle, to steady her as my mouth continues to do its work. Poppy is making no sound now—not one humans can hear, anyway. I’m sure there are some dogs out there that can pick up on the frequency of her intense pleasure.

Poppy’s on her, what, eighth, ninth orgasm? I lost count after around six. I’ve been eating her out for a good hour, maybe hour-and-a-half, my cock is rock hard in my pants but I don’t care; all I want to do is give her pleasure, keep being the one to make those sounds come out of her mouth. Her pussy tastes amazing, and I think I could stand to live between her legs forever. 

I’ve learned a lot of things about Poppy today. That paying particular attention to the left side of her clitoris drives her insane. That flicking back and forth lightly with my tongue sends her into shock waves, and sucking hard takes her over the edge. That she is very vocal about what she likes...which so far seems to be everything. Her body is covered in a sheen of sweat and her hair is mussed from throwing her head back into the mattress and thrashing wildly each time she climaxes. 

What really does it for  _ me _ is when she moans my name. The first time she did, mid-orgasm, I almost came in my pants like a damn teenager. I knew in that moment that I would do anything just to hear my name escape her lips again—lustily, guttural, completely outside of her control to stop it. 

Poppy takes in a huge shuddering gasp, and grabs my hair, panting. 

“S-stop! Stop, god, I can’t take it anymore! It’s too much! It’s too intense!”

I pull back from her aching clit, and wipe my mouth on my sleeve, licking Poppy’s lingering wetness from my lips. 

Poppy lays in a daze, breathless, her expression pure bliss. Her cheeks are flushed, and she looks thoroughly exhausted, as if she just collapsed after running a marathon. I sit up on my knees and crack my jaw, opening it and stretching, moving it side to side, then lay down next to Poppy. My cock is so hard I might explode, but I like the thought of only Poppy getting pleasure today; I was a total dick to her after all, and this is my repentance. I can wait until later to find relief with my hand. 

Poppy rolls to face me, closing her legs together tightly to protect her swollen clit, that has just been worshipped for the past hour and a half. 

“Oh my god, Tora. I was afraid you were going to break your jaw if you went for much longer.” She laughs, out of breath. 

I give her a lopsided grin. “Wouldn’t be the worst way I’ve broken my jaw.”

Her large brown eyes widen. “You’ve broken your jaw before? How?” She reaches out and her soft, warm fingers lightly trace my jaw bone. Somehow it seems even more intimate than my face in her pussy. I swallow. 

“Eh, it was a long time ago, it’s not important now. All that matters is it healed and I can put it to good use.” I smirk.

Poppy grins widely at that, and leans forward, placing a soft kiss on my lips. 

“You put it to  _ very  _ good use. That was...that was  _ incredible _ ,” she says in awe. 

I laugh. “I’m glad I could be of service. But, tell me, do you forgive me?” I cock an eyebrow. 

“Yes! Okay, you jerk? I forgive you!” She swats at my arm playfully, giggling, and I roll over, brushing her sweaty hair off her forehead.

“You thirsty?” I murmur, examining her face, finding I want to take tender care of her. She nods.

“Okay, be right back.” I leave the room and head down the hall until I see a public restroom. I slide in, close and lock the door, and reach my hand down my pants desperately. Squeezing the head of my cock, I run my hands up and down the shaft, quickly, thinking of my name on Poppy’s lips, focusing on the taste of her still on my tongue. It only takes a few moments before I come so hard fucking stars explode in my eyes. 

Panting, I clean up. As I wash my hands, I see my reflection in the mirror. There’s something different about me. I can’t place what it might be. It’s not like I’ve never eaten a girl out before, or relished in the sheer number of orgasms I can bring forth from a woman’s body. But this...this is different.  _ Poppy  _ is different. I’m a little alarmed to find there are parts of the depths of my eyes that I don’t recognize right now. They’re...unguarded, vulnerable, almost afraid. I blink rapidly, and turn from the mirror.  _ Whatever. I’m seeing shit that isn’t there. _

I leave the bathroom and look around, seeing a vending machine at the end of the hall. I put coins in to retrieve a bottle of water, then head quickly back to Poppy.

She’s laying on her side on the bed, her eyes half-closed. She looks drowsy and peaceful. 

“Brought ya something.” I hold up the water. She sits up a little, holding out her hand for my offering, a sweet little smile on her face. I unscrew the cap of the bottle and hand it to her, sitting on the edge of the bed. She drinks greedily, and I cup her face, watching her throat as she swallows. 

Letting out a satisfied, “Ahhh,” she grabs my loosened tie and pulls me onto the bed. I lay down on my back next to her, my arms opening automatically. She snuggles in, and I envelop her, breathing in the sweet, dewy scent of her hair, a little salty from the sweat of a woman well-satisfied. I rub circles on her back, feeling so relaxed that I could fall asleep right now, Poppy in my arms.

“Tora?” Poppy’s head is still on my chest, but she tilts it to look up at me.

“Yeah?”

“Why did you tell me I was fired?” Her voice is soft, still hurt and confused. Then, “Be honest,” she bosses, more assertive. 

I sigh. 

“Alright. I fired ya because...I didn’t like the idea of ya here, working in a place like this.”

“What, why?” She sits up now, but my hand is still on the small of her back.

“Why?” I have to spell it out? “Poppy, it’s a sex club. Men are using you as their whore because this is a whorehouse. A fancy one, but still. And I don’t know how ya ended up here, but you’re not a whore. You’re better than this. Ya don’t belong here.”

Poppy narrows her eyes and crosses her arms.  _ Uh oh.  _ How can someone so lovely and petite be so terrifying? 

“For your information, Tora, I’m  _ here  _ because I  _ chose  _ to be. Men don’t  _ use  _ me, I  _ let them _ touch me. I know you don’t know this about me, but I don’t ever do anything I don’t want to do. I’m not a  _ whore _ . I’m a sex worker.”

“But why?” I ask, trying to understand why anyone would choose to work at a Balthuman sex club.

“I needed a job.”

“Okay, but why  _ this  _ job?”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” she huffs, “but this pays good money, and I have debts to pay.”

That surprises me. Debts to pay? That sounds very mob-like. What kind of trouble has this sweet little thing possibly gotten into?  _ Nah _ ,  _ I’m probably jumping to conclusions. Maybe it’s just student loan debt or some crap like that. _

My next words fly out of my mouth before I even realize I’m saying them. “I’ll pay your debts. How much?”

Poppy reels back. “What?! Tora, no.” She’s shaking her head emphatically. 

“Why not? I’m paying you for this anyway, aren’t I?” I hate the thought that I’m going to pay her for what we just did. This wasn’t a transaction to me. I did this because I wanted to be with her, not because I wanted to use her for pleasure. 

“Because then I’d be in debt to  _ you _ !” She points out. “I don’t even know you. You’re not my boyfriend. You don’t owe me anything. And it’s not your job to take care of me.” She still hasn’t uncrossed her arms, and the stern look on her face is aggressively adorable. 

I open my mouth to argue, but there’s a knock on the door.

“Hey, uh, Bobby?” A man’s voice calls from the other side.

“Oh, that’s the manager,” Poppy whispers to me before calling out, “It’s  _ Poppy _ ! But, uh, yeah?” 

“That guy in there either has to pay up or get out. You’ve been in there for almost two hours.”

Poppy giggles and holds out her hand. “You heard the guy. Pay up, mister.” 

I roll my eyes, grinning at her little laugh, despite myself.

***

Even though it felt dirty, I did pay for Poppy’s time. Then I left her a $5,000 tip and got out of there before she could count it and refuse. What an odd chick. I have no idea how much money she owes, but I have no doubt I could cover it. The Balthuman’s personal bodyguard is well-compensated. 

_ The Balthuman’s personal bodyguard _ , I think bitterly. Poppy is right; she doesn’t know me. She doesn’t know how dangerous I am. She may work at a Balthuman club, but I know she’s not from this world. How the hell she ended up here is beyond me, but it is probably for the best that she remains ignorant of my job. The less she knows, the better for her.  _ Actually, the best thing for her is if I leave her alone.  _ I think I might be too selfish for that, though. I already find myself missing her. 

I’m walking to my car, my hands in my pockets, thinking about Poppy’s gorgeous tits, the feel of her skin as I grabbed a handful of her ample hips. I can still taste her on my lips and I have an urge to run back in and fuck her until she can’t walk and then hold her all night.  _ Whoa. Hold her _ ?  _ What the hell is going on? _

My confused reverie is broken by someone calling my name. “Yo, Big Bro Tora!” 

I turn toward the voice and Scharch emerges from the shadow of the club, flicking a cigarette to the ground. 

I stare at him impassively. “What?”

“So, that Poppy chick, huh?”

I say nothing.

“I was looking forward to enjoying her,” Scharch says casually, “but you  _ literally _ took her out of my hands. What’s her deal? She special or somethin’?”

I consider grabbing him by the throat, slamming him against the side of the building and threatening him to stay the hell away from her; maybe break a finger for good measure. But I decide to play it cool. Poppy said that she can take care of herself, and if I attack Scharch now, all I’ll do is draw attention to how much I like her. 

So instead I shrug and say, “Special? You saw her, she’s hot as hell. I just really wanted to fuck her.” Acting as disinterested and lecherous as possible is the best course of action. 

“Is that so?” Scharch smirks. “She is a sexy little thing, isn’t she? I can’t wait to fuck her myself.”

My jaw clenches but I remain expressionless. “You do that then.” 

I walk away without looking back.

Once I’m in my car, I punch the dashboard, wishing it was Scharch’s ugly, leering face. I’m disgusted with myself. I know it was the right move to act like Poppy means absolutely nothing to me, but I can’t fight the fact that that is just not true. She means  _ something _ . I don’t want Scharch touching her. I don’t want  _ anyone  _ touching her. I want to protect her from whatever enemies she may have, and bring her bottles of water after every orgasm I give her. 

I think back to what she said:  _ You’re not my boyfriend. _

I scowl at myself in the rear view mirror. This is a foreign feeling, and one I’ve never allowed myself to indulge in. Sure, women have caught my eye in the past. But now? Now this is about my heart.

I groan, shaking my head, admonishing myself even as I know what I want. 

I feel my face set in resolve as I speak into the silence, “Boyfriend, huh?” 

***

**_Poppy_ **

“So, I saw that your boyfriend came back.” 

I jump at the sound of Erdene’s voice, and throw the menus I’m holding in my hand across the room, saying quickly, “He’s not my boyfriend!”

Erdene looks silently at the menus now on the floor, then looks back to me.

“....‘kay,” she says, slowly, narrowing her eyes. “I mean, I was only joking, but that was quite an overreaction for someone who isn’t your boyfriend.”

I laugh nervously. “Haha, overreaction? You just startled me, that’s all.”

“Uh huh,” she says, knowingly.  _ Damn it, nothing gets past Erdene. _

“I know what you’re thinking,” she continues, crossing her arms and appraising me. “You’re thinking that nothing gets past me. But girl, you are  _ not  _ subtle. Throwing menus across a room?” She shakes her head. “So, tell me, what’s the deal with this guy? You have feelings for him?

“What? Feelings? Psh. Don’t be ridiculous. Feelings! Hah! No. Nuh-uh. Nope. What?”

Erdene’s mouth twists into an amused grin, and I feel my face getting heated. If this were a cartoon, steam would be coming out of my ears at this point.

“Okay, so you  _ do  _ want him to be your boyfriend, then.”

I sigh. “Erdene, no. I don’t know the guy.”

“Well, that’s what  _ dating  _ is for. Y’know, to  _ get  _ to know someone. Although, I’d say the two of you have skipped ahead several steps in the getting-to-know-you department. Sex again today, I see?”

“No!” I exclaim hotly. “We did not have sex today!”

“Well, you two were gone for about two hours and I heard a lot of sex noises coming from the room you were in.” Erdene raises her eyebrows.

“Well, I mean,  _ he  _ did stuff to  _ me.  _ But we didn’t, like,  _ do it. _ ” I tap my two index fingers together. Erdene eyes them.

“Well, no, if you think  _ that’s _ how it’s done,” she says, looking pointedly at my hands. 

I shove my hands behind my back as Erdene laughs. “Oh, Pops, I’m just teasing you!” She gives me a quick, one arm squeeze. “So, you’re saying that that guy ate you out for  _ two hours _ ? And he’s not your boyfriend because...why? You don’t know him? Girl, get to know him. You clearly want to.”

I shake my head. “Yeah, maybe.” 

_ Is _ that what I want? To get to know him? I was so mad at him for these past two weeks after he fake-fired me, but even then I couldn’t get him out of my head. Spending time with him feels easy, and not just because I literally had to lay there and do nothing today. I feel this...calmness...when I’m around him. I feel protected. And cared for.

But I’m being ridiculous! I’ve had two encounters with this guy! What, am I falling in love with him or something? 

Erdene is watching me carefully. “Pops, you don’t have to marry the guy. But I can see you’re having a lot of conflicting feelings. It’s okay to explore those feelings. If he comes in again, maybe just get to know him a little. Outside of sex. And if you don’t, send him my way. A guy who looks  _ that  _ hot  _ and  _ eats women out for hours? I’ll gladly take him off your hands.” 

I laugh, and Erdene pats my arm and walks away, heading back to work. I know she’s only joking about taking Tora off my hands, but I feel this surge of possessiveness.  _ No, he’s mine!  _ This is all so confusing.

I pull out the tip that Tora gave me—I had shoved it in my bra when he left and hadn’t bothered to count it. I flip through the bills. 

$5,000. 

I am holding $5,000 dollars in my hands right now.

Is this real life? Tora just took me to a whole other damn dimension with his tongue, and then left me  _ five thousand dollars _ as a tip.

I run to the dressing room in a panic and stuff it into my purse. Who the heck _is_ this guy? If I want answers, I guess I’ll have to take Erdene’s advice, and get to know him. That is, if he ever comes back. Until then, I have work to do. I still haven’t ruled out having sex with someone else today. I’ll just roll with it, live in the moment, do whatever turns me on. I’m feeling excited already, anticipating what sorts of things I’ll be getting into today...or will be getting into me.

I check myself in the mirror before heading back out to the floor. I look different, somehow, though I couldn’t say just how.  _ Strange _ . I shake my head.  _ I’m probably just seeing stuff that isn’t there. _

***

That evening, I’m busy wiping down tables when suddenly someone’s hands grab me from behind, squeezing my breasts. A hot breath in my ear says, “Fancy meeting you here.” 

I turn my head to the side and see the man who had grabbed me earlier, before Tora pulled me away—Scharch. He runs his hands down my torso and directly to my sex, cupping it through my skirt. I gasp. 

“Y’know,” Scharch says quietly, while rubbing his hand on me, “I wasn’t happy about being interrupted earlier, and I’ve been hard thinking about you  _ all day _ .”

“Oh yeah?” I push my ass back into him and feel his erection. It could be interesting to see where this goes—I had intended to sleep with this guy earlier, after all, and I think my clit has recovered from the blissful overstimulation of earlier. I swivel my hips. He moans, and thumbs my breasts. 

“Yeah. And because I was so cruelly denied your company earlier, I’ve gone ahead and reserved you for two hours.”

I turn then, smiling. “Shall I get you a menu, sir?”

His eyes are ravenous. “You  _ are _ the menu,” he growls.

He takes my hand and leads me into a room, different from the kind Tora and I occupied. There’s a very low stage, only one step up from the floor. On the stage is a low bed, tilted and angled the tiniest bit towards where Scharch and I stand. And on the bed is a woman.

I know her as Samara, but I’ve barely spoken to her in the time that we’ve worked together. She’s tall, with huge tits and short blonde hair. She is currently lounging back on the bed, completely naked, her legs spread wide. 

“Poppy,” Scharch says, “this is Samara. I want you to fuck her tonight, while I watch.”

My mouth opens a little bit, but I quickly shut it, glancing at Samara. She smiles at me, her eyes seductive. I’ve never been with a girl before, but I find I am not opposed to the idea. In fact, I feel heat pooling downwards as my eyes roam over her naked figure. 

“Alright,” I say.

Scharch nods once, and helps me step up onto the stage. 

“Ladies,” he instructs, “kneel.”

Samara crawls forward to the end of the bed, and I kneel down next to her. She smells sweetly like warm vanilla. Her breasts have a dusting of glitter, the light from the chandelier above dancing off of them. 

“Open your mouth,” Scharchs says, without preamble. I do, and he inserts two fingers. I close my lips around them and begin to suck, maintaining eye contact. When they’re good and wet, he slowly pulls them from my mouth, my teeth lightly grazing them, and uses them to stroke Samara’s pussy—my spit mixing with her wetness. Samara bites her lower lip, watching me. 

Scharch takes his fingers from Samara’s pussy and puts them back into my mouth. “Suck,” he orders, and I do. I taste Samara and me and Scharch, and I greedily lap at his hand, wondering if his fingers will now enter me below.

Instead, he steps back and takes a seat on a high-backed chair in front of the stage. It is clear that this room is designed for sex performances—men watching like kings on a throne, as women perform for them with their bodies; an erotic tableau. I find that the idea of it all thrills me.

Scharch strokes his growing erection through his pants. 

“Samara, I want you to play with Poppy.”

Samara nods, and I’m breathless. Her lips are on mine, soft and sweet, and I taste her vanilla scent. She runs her tongue slowly along my bottom lip, asking for permission, and I open my mouth to her. Our tongues touch softly. We barely move them together, just slow and tender probes and flicks, and it’s incredibly erotic. 

Samara moves to my neck, and begins kissing lightly down to my chest. She pulls my maid outfit over my head, discarding it offstage, and wraps her hands around me, unhooking my bra to expose my already tight nipples. With her eyes locked on mine, she takes one into her mouth, slow and sweet, savoring it like a dollop of icing. I moan and lean in to her mouth, as her tongue flicks over the sharp nub, circling and sucking. She takes my other nipple into her mouth and I glance over at Scharch. His eyes are burning with lust as he strokes himself through his pants, watching Samara lick me and suck me. Watching me enjoy it.

“Lie back, Poppy,” Scharch says, undoing his pants and taking his cock out. I note that it’s not as big as Tora’s, though still substantial. Scharch is stroking himself, and I lay back, propping myself up on my elbows to watch.

Samara pulls my panties off, and spreads my legs wide open, on display for Scharch. She steps off the stage, walks to Scharch, and hands my panties to him. He catches her hand as he takes them, and sucks on her fingers, his eyes roaming over my exposed body. Then she’s back on the bed with me, slowly inserting one single digit into me. I’m so wet it slides in with a soft squelching sound. Samara smiles at me, laughter in her eyes. 

“You’re a dirty girl, aren’t you, Poppy?” she croons. 

“Y-yes, oh god!” 

A second finger enters me and Samara picks up the speed, licking her lips, enjoying the pleasure she’s bringing me. The whole thing is so hot and so teasing. Two fingers aren’t nearly enough to meet my needs, and so I grab her hand. Without even realizing what I’m doing, I push her down onto the bed, and straddle her. 

“Oh fuck,” Scharch moans, stroking his cock.

I begin to ravish Samara. I take her nipples in my mouth and suck. Samara gasps as I bite one and twist the other. I relish the feeling of her soft nipples becoming hard under my tongue. Samara’s hands are on my hips, and I grind down, seeking pressure, trying to relieve my frantic ache. 

Somehow my body knows what to do. I pull Samara’s leg up and slide my pussy down onto hers, my clit making direct contact with her clit. I moan. We’re both so wet and she’s so warm, and I push down and forward, dragging my pussy back across hers, increasing my speed. I feel a bead of sweat drip down my back as I pant with exertion. 

“Are you going to use my pussy to come, Poppy?” Samara is so  _ dirty _ . “Huh? Use my pretty pussy to make yourself come?” 

I’m nodding, and my moans become more animalistic as I pick up speed, down and forward back and down, grinding deliciously, her vanilla scent overwhelming me, her heat slick below me, her words making me wetter.

“Fuck,” Scharch moans. “It looks like your pussies are making out with each other.”

Our lips are sliding back and forth, folding in on each other, our clits meeting together over and over. 

“That’s right, Poppy,” Samara says, “Show me how you come. Come for me and show me how you use my pussy to make yourself come.”

My hands sink into her leg as I grunt, guttural, my vision receding into blackness as stars explode in my eyes. Heavy waves of heat radiate throughout my body, and crash with the power of the ocean, all pooling towards that most sensitive part of myself. I cry out, over and over and over.

As the climax winds down, I continue to languidly roll my hips, still grinding into Samara, just slower, more sensuous. I’m looking at her pretty face through heavy-lidded eyes, reveling in this new sensation, of being with a woman, of experiencing pleasure in a way I couldn’t with a man. 

Speaking of man.

Scharch is pumping his cock in his fist, hard and fast. He stands up. 

“Samara, hold Poppy’s legs open,” he orders.

Samara gently pushes me off of her and crawls around behind me, leaning me back against her, then opens my knees from behind. Her finger snakes down and lightly flicks my clit and I gasp. 

Scharch’s eyes bore into mine, and I keep my gaze, wondering what’s about to happen. He’s getting close to finishing, his grunts getting louder and more frequent. He moans, bringing his cock close to me, and angling it so that his hot seed lands right on my swollen clit. 

I’m screaming, for what feels like the millionth time today. Samara is rubbing Scharch’s warm semen all over my clit. Suddenly, my mind flashes to Tora’s face, unbidden. The thought of him thrills me more than anything that has happened here, and I squeeze my eyes closed, throwing my head back, and climaxing again. I decide that I’ll count this one as yet another orgasm that Tora gave me today. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had posted this fic earlier this year and took it down, but now I'm putting it back up. I am not sure, however, when I will continue this story. Hopefully not too long down the road.


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